Castleland Anthology
by December21st
Summary: Collection of short stories written in response to challenges at LiveJournal's Castleland.
1. Between Ticks

"Between Ticks"

By December21st

Fandom: Castle

Rating: PG

Pairing: Castle/Beckett

Warnings: Spoilers for "Tick, Tick, Tick …"

Summary: There is time between the ticks of a clock.

Response to the Castleland writing challenge "Redo". The challenge was to write a drabble (100-200 words) that starts off with an event from show and change the end result of the scene.

* * *

"What, with your vast arsenal of rapier wit?" Beckett retorts.

"There is a madman gunning for you because of me. I am not. Going to leave you. Alone." Castle argues stubbornly.

Beckett shrugs in resignation, crossing in front of Castle as he stands to pour the wine from her glass into his. They're inches from each other, Beckett drawing in a breath to say something, when she pauses. Beckett looks into Castle's face, her expression almost startled, while he stares into her eyes with a questioning look.

Their lips meet tentatively at first, then with growing intensity. Beckett's wrists rest gently on Castle's shoulders, her fingers lightly touching the back of his neck. Castle's hands settle tentatively on Beckett's hips. They're drawn together an eternity when Beckett finally pulls away, her eyes slightly glazed.

"Castle, we can't. Not now, not like this."

Castle doesn't protest, making an understanding noise in the back of his throat.

Beckett's halfway to her bedroom when Castle finally speaks.

"Kate? You'll let me know when we can?"

She smiles. "I'll let you know."


	2. Do You Want to Talk?

"Do You Want to Talk?"

By December21st

Fandom: Castle

Rating: G

Pairing: Ryan/Jenny

Warnings: None.

Summary: Do you ever have one of those days?

In this Castleland writing challenge, titled "Coming in Second", we were asked to write a story written in second person. That's not something I've ever tried before, but it was fun ... and I won first place in the challenge! Again! (Okay, I tied with meridian_rose for First Place, but still...)

* * *

Do you ever have one of those days? You know, a day when you can't catch a break on any of your cases, and someone (whose name isn't Esposito) "forgot" to do the paperwork on the Hutchinson case and somehow you're the one who gets stuck staying late finishing it.

It's the kind of day when you just want to spend some quality couch time with your girlfriend, Jenny, and watch a sitcom where the family dog is smarter than the husband. But no, that's the night Jenny picks to have _the talk_. The one about where this relationship is going, when do you think we'll move in together, and do you think you'll ever want to get married and have kids?

So you think about your relationship with Jenny, and how she's the best thing to happen to you in a long time, and she's probably right about taking the next step.

And you think about Beckett and her relationship with Castle. They've spent years doing their one-step-forward, two-steps-back tango even though it's obvious to everyone but them that they're perfect for each other. You're not sure what the current status of their friendship is, if they're flirting, or pretending to be attracted to someone else, or not speaking, or one near-death experience away from falling into bed with each other. Or all of the above. But they never seem to make any progress.

You know that's not what you want for yourself and Jenny. You want a relationship that's going somewhere. You think that moving in together isn't such a bad idea, and that maybe, someday, you can see the two of you watching sitcoms together on the couch with a couple kids and a dog. Just as long as the dog isn't smarter than you.


	3. The Other Kind

"The Other Kind"

By December21st

Fandom: Castle

Rating: PG

Pairing: Vague Castle/Beckett

Warnings: None

Summary: There are two kinds of folks who sit around thinking about how to kill people.

Response to the Castleland writing challenge "It'll Last Longer", where we were asked to write a short fic based on one of two screenshots from the episode "Home is Where the Heart Stops", during the arrival at the charity event. This piece won Third Place for the challenge.

* * *

Tonight I'm finally going to meet my favorite writer, Richard Castle. I'm a writer myself, although I haven't been published yet. The rejection letters I get say that my work is too dark. I feel that Richard and I have a lot in common. We both write about murder.

I'm at the launch party for his latest book. Normally, I'm not the kind of person that gets invited to launch parties, but yesterday I met a journalist for some local online news site, and he wasn't going to be using his tickets, so here I am.

He arrives in style, wearing a tux, a beautiful woman on his arm. Richard's prettier than a writer of murders should be, but not everyone has the strength of character to weather their look the way I have. But still, a couple scars wouldn't hurt him that much.

The woman must be his girlfriend. She dresses to please his tastes; I can tell. Her necklace looks just like someone drew a knife around her pretty, bare throat, drops of blood glistening on her skin.

Richard talks with the people in the crowd, smiling, laughing, one of them. He'll have to teach me how he fakes that kind of empathy. It's something I've never quite managed to master. I finally work up the nerve to approach him; he says he's pleased to meet me. When I tell him that I'm a writer too, he's encouraging and tells me to keep at my craft. I know that he, too, can sense we're kindred spirits. He'll welcome me when I approach him again. His girlfriend is looking at me strangely. I want to tell her how much I like her dress; the color makes it look like she's soaked in blood, but I chicken out at the last minute.

Later I overhear Richard talking to his girlfriend about her latest case. I realize that she must be the real life cop that inspired Nikki Heat. She mentions the journalist that I got tonight's tickets from. Now that we're friends, I'm sure I can tell Richard that he can't write about the journalist. That's my murder.


	4. Get a Clue

"Get a Clue"

By December21st

Fandom: Castle

Rating: PG

Pairing: None

Warnings: None

Summary: Murder's not a game.

In this Castleland" writing challenge, titled "J'Accuse", we were asked to write short fic based on a handful of clues, including the identities of the victim and three suspects. I tied for Second Place for this challenge.

A/N: This story has several references to something (you'll figure it out when you read the story). See how many you can spot.

* * *

Beckett sits on her desk, staring at the murder board. Photos of the late Janet Body show her lying face-down on an Oriental rug in the study of her palatial Park Avenue home. "Lanie says the gunshot wound could have come from half the weapons in her collection; she'll have more for us tomorrow."

"Didn't Lanie also say our victim wasn't killed where she was found? That somebody moved her?" Castle asks, examining photos of the crime scene. The study is full of display cases containing a small arsenal of antique weapons. The top photo shows a dagger with an elaborate peacock blue hilt.

"Esposito? What do our witnesses have to say?" Beckett asks. They've already discussed the primary suspects and their motives.

"The unfortunately-named Ms. Body had six guests for dinner. Four members of the Parker family, in addition to Clark Michaels and Stacey Brown. The sister's in San Francisco for the weekend. Body was trying to convince the brothers to sell their late father's customized wrench business to her. When they heard the gunshot, the Parkers were all in the dining room, but neither Michaels nor Brown were there. The caterer's assistant, Bitsy White, alibis all the Parkers, but get this: she let slip that her boyfriend is none other than Peter Williams." Esposito reports.

"The guy Janet Body had arrested yesterday at the catering company for pickpocketing?"

"Yeah, Bitsy says she was going to beg Ms. Body to reconsider pressing charges, but she never got the chance."

"What about the caterer?"

Ryan speaks up. "Guy named Geoffrey Green. He was in the hall, on the phone to his bookie. By the way, Lead Pipe Cinch is a sure thing in the Seventh. He says that he saw Miss. Brown go into the kitchen, and Michaels was in the lounge when the gunshot went off. He couldn't tell where it came from – sound bounces around those big hallways like crazy. He swears that he could see the study door the whole time, and nobody came in or went out until they found the victim."

"Then how did the murderer get out?" Beckett wonders aloud.

"A secret passage!" Castle exclaims enthusiastically. Beckett exchanges looks with Ryan and Esposito but when Castle insists on returning to the scene of the crime, it doesn't take him long to find the hidden corridor, the narrow passage revealing itself when he tugs on a mustard colored silk rope dangling from an elaborate tapestry.

Beckett takes the lead as she and Castle squeeze through the tight passageway, her flashlight revealing drag marks and drops of blood on the dusty floor. When they reach the end, Castle spots an antique revolver resting on a wooden beam just over the panel that opens into the larder of the mansion's kitchen.

"I know who did it!" Castle exclaims, turning to Beckett as he clambers out of the corridor. She nods, evidently having come to the same conclusion.

"It was Miss. Brown in the kitchen with the revolver!"


	5. Witness

"Witness"

By December21st

Fandom: Castle

Rating: PG

Pairing: None

Warnings: None

Summary: Beckett meets the only witness to a murder.

In this Castleland writing challenge, titled "Who Ya Gonna Call?", we were asked to write short fic with a ghost. I won First Place for this challenge!

* * *

Beckett regains consciousness slowly, a steady drip of water tapping her cheek. She sits up and groans as a spike of pain drives through her skull. She's lying on the floor of an empty apartment, water dripping down on her from the mold-spotted ceiling. One of the window panes is broken and an erratic breeze causes the tattered remains of flimsy curtains to flap in the dimming twilight.

"Your friends are on their way. I called them." A young woman sitting on an old plastic crate tells her, gesturing towards Beckett's cell phone, lying in the middle of the floor. She's maybe sixteen, and her clothes suggest she's homeless.

"What happened?" Beckett's memory is fuzzy and her head hurts, but the last thing she remembers is dropping off Castle at his apartment while on her way to question a suspect.

"The security guard from the construction site next door brought you here. I think he was going to … do things, but I scared him off." The teen smiles tightly, pleased with her accomplishment. Kate has a flash of memory – a burly guard backhanding her into a wall, followed by pain and darkness.

"What's your name?" Kate asks gently.

"I'm Gemma." The girl doesn't offer a last name, and Beckett doesn't push.

"Thanks for looking after me, Gemma. I'm Detective Kate Beckett with the NYPD. Do you live here?"

"Sometimes."

"A young woman was murdered at the construction site two nights ago. Did you see anything, Gemma?"

"He brought all his victims here. They could scream and scream nobody would hear them."

"Who did, Gemma? The security guard?" If they can prove multiple victims, with a witness, the killer will rot in prison for the rest of his life.

Beckett hears voices downstairs calling her name. She recognizes them; Ryan and Esposito, even Castle, who's supposed to be at some fancy party. They sound worried. She stands up, going to the open doorway to the apartment, and calls out. "Up here!"

Standing up was a bad idea, and Beckett closes her eyes, fighting back a new wave of pain. She's suddenly enveloped in a strong pair of arms hugging her and Castle's telling her "Thank god you're safe!"

"I'm fine," she reassures the trio. "We need a warrant for the arrest of …" Kate searches her memory, "John Winslow, the security guard at the construction site. Let's start with assault on a police officer, and we'll add the murder charges when we have more evidence." Kate looks around the room, but Gemma is nowhere to be seen. "Where's Gemma?"

"Who?" Esposito asks.

"The homeless girl that found me and called you for help?" Beckett asks, tired. She hopes Gemma hasn't run off.

Caste holds up his cell phone. "Beckett, this is the call I got from you." He presses play. At first there's just a quiet sobbing. A female voice starts repeating "no, don't," until the words turn into screams, increasing in terror and frequency until the recording cuts off.

Beckett just stares at the phone, aghast.

Ryan looks up from a phone call he just ended. "Did you say Gemma?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Interesting coincidence. Lanie just identified our victim. Ran away from her home in Bangor, Maine, about ten months ago. Her name was Gemma Perkins."


	6. Another Time

"Another Time"

By December21st

Fandom: Castle

Rating: PG

Pairing: Vague Castle/Beckett

Warnings: None

Summary: What if Castle and Beckett had lived in the wild west?

In this Castleland writing challenge, titled "Rewriting History", we were asked to write a short fic changing the setting of Castle to a time in the past. I tied for Third Place in this challenge.

* * *

The doors to the sheriff's office burst open. The first person through is a large, brutish man wearing the clothes of a ranch hand, his skin tanned and leathery after a lifetime outdoors, his scraggly beard unkempt. At first Benedict Mason thinks that this is the sheriff, the man he's been waiting for well over two hours. The large man is immediately followed by a woman wearing men's clothing, a gun strapped to her right leg. She's pretty in spite of her unconventional clothing – or perhaps because of it. The duster and slouch hat compliment her looks. Deputy Ryan immediately grabs a ring of keys off the wall, guiding the large man to the cell at the back of the room. The woman is arguing with another man who has followed her into the room, well-dressed and apparently wealthy.

"I told you not to look in those crates. I know I did. And what did you do? What is, in fact, the very first thing you did?" The woman sounds like she's scolding a child.

"I just wanted to see if there was any evidence that Billy here is the one that robbed those New Yorkers." The man defends himself plaintively.

"Billy, did you rob those city folk?" The woman calls back to large man, now securely in the cell.

"Yeah, but it shouldn't count. They didn't have nothing good. And you owe me one for killing Rover. He was a good boy. I raised him from when he was little."

Mason decides that it's his turn. He approaches the well-dressed man. "Sheriff? I'm Benedict Mason; I understand that you're acquainted with Richard Castle, the author? I was hoping that you could introduce me to him; I have a business deal I'd like to discuss with him."

The man smiles, like Mason's just told a good joke. "Mr. Mason, this is your lucky day. I'm Richard Castle, and I'd like to introduce you to Kate Beckett." Castle gestures towards the woman, who shakes Mason's hand. Her handshake is strong and efficient, not the dainty washrag of most women and not a few men. Castle has saved the best for last. "Sheriff Beckett."

"Not a lot of women with your job," Mason observes, curious to see how she'll react.

"Yeah, well, my opponent died a week before the election. I won by seven votes." Beckett's pragmatic, but not offended.

"Why'd you kill his dog?" Mason asks, gesturing towards Billy in his cell.

Beckett snorts. "Rover was his pet rattlesnake. It bit Castle, who was screaming like a little girl. I had to stop and suck the venom out before it killed him." Mason notices that Castle has a handkerchief wrapped around one finger. The mental image of those beautiful lips sucking on one of Castle's fingers makes Mason suddenly blush.

"What did you want with me, Mr. Mason?" Castle asks him, his wound temporarily forgotten.

"I'm from your publisher, Mr. Castle. About the penny dreadfuls that you write about Nikki Heat, the beautiful woman who works for the New York City police force. The public loves them, because they're so fanciful, so unrealistic."

"What do you think?"

Mason can't keep his eyes off of Sheriff Beckett, who's talking to her deputies. "I think they're not realistic enough."


	7. American Idle

"American Idle"

By December21st

Fandom: Castle

Rating: G

Pairing: None

Warnings: Vague spoilers for "Last Call".

Summary: Beckett wants to arrest someone, and it isn't Castle.

In this Castleland writing challenge, titled "Prompt", we were asked to write two short fics each inspired by one of four prompts. This was written for the prompt "Music." I won Second Place in this challenge.

* * *

"Beckett!"

"Hmmm … wha? What do you want, Castle?"

"Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty."

"I wasn't sleeping."

"Of course not. You were just memorizing the patterns on the insides of your eyelids for ten minutes."

"I'm going to arrest that little creep."

"Oh good. Who exactly are we arresting?"

"Billy Joel."

"Billy Joel the musician? This ought to be entertaining. And here I thought you said that you get too much publicity as it is with the Nikki Heat books."

"What? No, not _that _Billy Joel. It's my new neighbor. Mrs. Krupitski across the hall said that he wants to be on American Idol, but she couldn't remember his name, so she called him Billy Joel."

"And trying out for American Idol is an arrestable offense now? Not that I'd really be opposed to that for some of the contestants, but it seems a little extreme."

"Because he stays up until two a.m. every morning practicing. Stop laughing, Castle, it's not funny."

"Oh, come on, it's a little funny."

"If I never hear _Piano Man_ again, it will be too soon."


	8. Night Falls

"Night Falls"

By December21st

Fandom: Castle

Rating: PG

Pairing: Castle/Beckett

Warnings: None

Summary: Everything's falling. Rain, night, and Beckett's tears.

In this Castleland writing challenge, titled "Prompt", we were asked to write two short fics each inspired by one of four prompts. This was written for the prompt "Rain." I won First Place in this challenge.

* * *

Kate stands by the window of her darkened apartment, listening to the midnight symphony of sirens and the clatter of public transportation. The rain running down the window blurs distant lights, a pastiche of neon and fluorescent in a hundred colors. It can't be because her eyes are full of tears. She's been crying for hours and certainly she should have stopped by now.

She doesn't turn when she hears someone come in behind her. She recognized the jangle of Castle's keys before he unlocked the door; the creak of his tread as he entered; the sound of his breathing as he stands there, adjusting to the darkness.

"I'm an idiot," Rick proclaims. Kate almost smiles, but it will take more than three words for that.

"Don't sell yourself short," Kate tries to put outrage into her voice, but she doesn't have the energy for outrage, not any more. She doesn't move from her position facing the city.

"Okay, I'm a _complete_ idiot. Idiocy unparalleled in the entire history of idiocy. The next edition of the O.E.D. will have my picture next to the entry."

"That's the man I love you're insulting," Kate watches his reflection in the window, approaching her in the dark.

"I have it on good authority that he deserves it." Rick's at her elbow, almost whispering, his voice contrite. Kate finally turns around.

"Rick, you're drenched. You don't wear a coat? In this downpour?" Rivulets of water drip from his hair onto hers as Rick closes the last few inches between them.

"I told you. I'm an idiot."


	9. Get a Clue  Ending B

"Get a Clue – Ending B"

By December21st

Fandom: Castle

Rating: PG

Pairing: None

Warnings: None

Summary: Murder's not a game.

In this Castleland writing challenge, titled "Do Over", we were asked rewrite one of our previous stories (from a specific list of challenges). I chose to rewrite "Get a Clue." I tied for Second Place for this challenge – just like I did the first time!

* * *

Beckett sits on her desk, staring at the murder board. Photos of the late Janet Body show her lying face-down on an Oriental rug in the study of her palatial Park Avenue home. "Lanie says the gunshot wound could have come from half the weapons in her collection; she'll have more for us tomorrow."

"Didn't Lanie also say our victim wasn't killed where she was found? That somebody moved her?" Castle asks, examining photos of the crime scene. The study is full of display cases containing a small arsenal of antique weapons. The top photo shows a dagger with an elaborate peacock blue hilt.

"Esposito? What do our witnesses have to say?" Beckett asks. They've already discussed the primary suspects and their motives.

"The unfortunately-named Ms. Body had six guests for dinner. Four members of the Parker family, in addition to Clark Michaels and Stacey Brown. The sister's in San Francisco for the weekend. Body was trying to convince the brothers to sell their late father's customized wrench business to her. When they heard the gunshot, the Parkers were all in the dining room, but neither Michaels nor Brown were there. The caterer's assistant, Bitsy White, alibis all the Parkers, but get this: she let slip that her boyfriend is none other than Peter Williams." Esposito reports.

"The guy Janet Body had arrested yesterday at the catering company for pickpocketing?"

"Yeah, Bitsy says she was going to beg Ms. Body to reconsider pressing charges, but she never got the chance."

"What about the caterer?"

Ryan speaks up. "Guy named Geoffrey Green. He was in the hall, on the phone to his bookie. By the way, Lead Pipe Cinch is a sure thing in the Seventh. He says that he saw Miss. Brown go into the kitchen, and Michaels was in the lounge when the gunshot went off. He couldn't tell where it came from – sound bounces around those big hallways like crazy. He swears that he could see the study door the whole time, and nobody came in or went out until they found the victim."

"Then how did the murderer get out?" Beckett wonders aloud.

Castle looks up from his examination of the crime scene photos. "Why would you only have one candlestick?"

"Why would you have any?" Esposito asks.

Castle gives him a look and hand a photo to Beckett. "_This_ is an Asa Sidney Candlestick. They're collector's items. Very expensive. They only come in pairs. So why is there only one in the library?"

"Lanie did say that Ms. Body was knocked out with a blunt instrument of some sort before she was killed. Maybe Green wasn't watching the door as closely as he said he was."

"I know who did it!" Castle exclaims, turning to Beckett. She nods, evidently having come to the same conclusion.

"It was Mr. Green in the library with the candlestick!"


	10. What's My Motivation

"What's My Motivation"

By December21st

Fandom: Castle

Rating: PG

Pairing: None

Warnings: None

Summary: There are all kinds of reasons for someone to kill someone.

In this Castleland writing challenge, titled "Before I Met You", we were asked to write a short fic taking place at least a year before the first episode. I got Third Place in this challenge.

* * *

"Who are you this time, mom?"

"I'm playing a woman named Miss. Casewell."

"What's the play called?"

"The Mousetrap."

"Does it have mice in it?"

"Heavens, no!"

"Does it have traps in it?"

"Not exactly."

"Then why is it called 'The Mousetrap'?"

"Richard, darling, I'm sure I don't know."

"What's it about?"

"It's a murder mystery."

"Neat! Did you do it? Are you the murderer?"

"Richard Rodgers! When did you become so bloodthirsty?"

"Well are you?"

"I don't think so, sweetheart. It's not exactly straightforward."

"So who's the murderer?"

"You'll have to watch the play to find out, just like everyone else."

"Are you at least a suspect? Because that would be awesome."

"We're all suspects."

"Why?"

"Everyone in the play had some reason to kill the victim."

"What are the reasons?"

"Richard, are you asking what my motivation is? Have you been talking to Tipper Barclay during rehearsals again?"

"Yeah, but not just yours, everyone's!"

"It's hard enough keeping track of my own character in this play. Only the director really understands everyone's motivation. And probably the author."

"Mom, if I write a murder mystery play, does that mean I get to make up motivations for all of the characters in it?"

"Of course, darling."

"Then that's what I'm gonna do. I'm going to write a mystery play. Or maybe a book instead."


	11. Decaf

"Decaf"

By December21st

Fandom: Castle

Rating: G

Pairing: None

Warnings: None

Summary: There's a disaster at the 12th Precinct.

In this Castleland writing challenge, titled "Based On", we were asked to write two short fics, each based on one of four comics.

* * *

When Castle arrives, the 12th Precinct is awash in chaos, worse than anything he's ever seen before. The way people are emptying out of the building, he wonders if there's been a bomb threat. Beckett's not at her desk, so he sets down the paper bag he was carrying and draws out two paper coffee cups, setting hers down carefully next to her keyboard while wrapping his own in both hands to warm his winter-chilled hands.

A uniformed officer he doesn't recognize bursts out of the break room holding an empty coffee pot and strides across the room towards the stairs leading down. Everyone else is gone, the building strangely silent. Glancing at the desk, he notices that the cup he just set down is missing.

Castle hunches down to find Beckett huddled in the well of her desk, head thrown back as she downs the last of the coffee in the cup he brought. She licks the edge of the cup, and then turns to meet his concerned look. "Beckett? What happened? What's wrong?"

Her eyes fasten on his lips as he takes the last swig of his own cup. "I just need another taste," she tells him, licking her lips in a predatory manner. "We ran out of coffee."


	12. Fifteen Minutes

"Fifteen Minutes"

By December21st

Fandom: Castle

Rating: PG

Pairing: None

Warnings: None

Summary: Some people get fifteen minutes of fame. And some people get greedy.

In this Castleland writing challenge, titled "Based On", we were asked to write two short fics, each based on one of four comics.

* * *

Dude, it's an honor to meet me, right?

I'm all kinds of famous. I'm the starting quarterback for the U.N.Y. Raptors – that's college football for all you chicks – and the pros are already arguing about who gets me. And then I'm a TV star too, I did this ad campaign for underage drinking, because I'm all for that! And finally I'm a real, honest-to-God hero. I found this one sophomore dead in the locker room, and I called the cops and waited until they showed up.

There's this cop chick that keeps asking me questions about the dead kid, Brian or Barry or something. She's totally into me, I can tell the way she keeps coming back to ask me more questions. I'm cool with that, she's totally hot for someone that old. But there's this guy that she hangs with who wrote a book or something, and everyone's all acting like he's the famous one, and not me. Pfft. Anyone can write a book.

I bet I could have gotten Barry or Brian or whatever his name was to write one for me before he tried blackmail me for more money or he'd tell the coach he'd been doing my homework all year. The little pipsqueak. And then, to add insult to insult, he said I was illiterate. Which is totally not true. My parents were married.

When I was waiting for the cops to show up, I suppose I should have took the note that I wrote Brian or Barry or … maybe Bill? Asking him to meet me in the locker room. But it's not like I signed it. I just used a piece of paper from a notebook I keep on me to write down chick's phone numbers. Oh, and to give out autographs, of course. Like the one I gave to that writer guy, just to prove to him who's really famous around here.


	13. Don't Call Me, I'll Call You

"Don't Call Me, I'll Call You"

By December21st

Fandom: Castle

Rating: PG

Pairing: Castle/Beckett

Warnings: Spoilers for "Last Call"

Summary: Castle should probably have waited until he was sober before calling Alexis.

In this Castleland writing challenge, titled "STFU/Speak Up", we were asked to write a short fic, either with no dialog or dialog-only. I got Second Place in the "Speak Up" challenge.

* * *

"Hello?"

"Alexis, my beautiful daughter. I'm so glad you're home. Why're you home? It's Friday night! You should be out gallivanting and having youthful indish … indigestion!"

"Because it's four in the morning? Dad, how much did you have to drink?"

"Just a little. And then a little more, just to keep up. She's a really good drinker. I think she cheats."

"Dad, are you okay? Are you under arrest?"

"I'm not … exactly … under arrest. It's just that I locked us in. For privacy. And my keys were in my pants, and then I lost my pants playing Strip Darts and Beckett got mad and said I was cheating and she threw them in the river and …"

"Dad."

"And I wasn't even cheating that much, I just wanted to see her …"

"Dad! Stop!"

"I probably shouldn't tell you about that."

"Please don't. Really."

"Can you come by with the spare key and let us out?"

"It depends. Where are you?"

"At the _Old Haunt_. In the secret room. Oh, but it's a bar, so you won't be able to bring us the keys until you're twenty-one. Do you think you could get a fake I.D.? I know this guy and what's that? Okay! And Beckett promises not to arrest you."

"I don't think it will be a problem, Dad. I'll catch a cab and be right over."

"No."

"What? Dad, it's no problem, I know where the keys are, and …"

"Alexis, you're seventeen. You're not coming to this neighborhood at four o'clock and that's final."

"I can wake Grams."

"Can't we just wait until you turn twenty-one?"

"Would you rather I call Detective Esposito? Or Ryan? I know! How about I call Detective Beckett's father! I'm sure he'd love to help!"

"Alexis?"

"Yes, Dad?"

"I'm sorry I woke you up."

"I know you are."


	14. Word of the Day

"Word of the Day"

By December21st

Fandom: Castle

Rating: PG

Pairing: Castle/Beckett

Warnings: Spoilers for "Tick, Tick, Tick…" and "Boom!", reference to sex

Summary: Lanie discovers that Kate's vocabulary is really vague for one particular word.

In this Castleland writing challenge, titled "Be Mine", we were asked to select a quotation from a list and then write a fic based on that quotation. I chose:

"It's where two people who like each other go out and have fun?"  
**- Watson, Sherlock**

* * *

Kate Beckett walked into the morgue, looking for one of the coroners.

"Hey, Lanie," Beckett greeted her friend. "Have you seen Perlmutter around? I need to get a report from him on Tobias Hansen."

"He's at lunch. He should be back in ten minutes or so," Lanie commented, covering the corpse on the table in front of her. "And that concludes the autopsy of Mrs. Butcher."

"Anything I should know about?" Beckett knew that she'd hear about it eventually if there were, but figured she'd ask since she was here.

"Nope. Suicide by bacon. Considering how clogged her arteries were, I'm surprised that she didn't keel over six months ago."

"Not much I can do about that," Beckett shrugged sympathetically.

"What you can do is tell me about your date with Castle last night. How was the big fancy dress party? Did you see anyone famous?" Lanie demanded, eager for details.

"Date? It wasn't a date, Lanie. It was just …" Beckett protested.

"It's where two people who like each other go out and have fun? That sounds like a date to me." Lanie informed her friend.

"No, it's just that Castle needed someone to go with him, and I wasn't busy, and I was there, so it was just easier for me to go with him," Beckett explained, the voice of reason all over her face.

"Kate, the only reason you were there is because you've been living in Castle's spare room for the last two months. I know, I know, you're only there because you lost another apartment to a mad bomber. But, really, how long does it take to find something temporary?"

"It _is_ temporary, Lanie. Just until the insurance comes through on the last place." Beckett objected.

"Un-hunh. Because insurance companies are so _understanding_ when they have to pay for a second apartment that got blown up. Okay, girl, let's say I believe you. You weren't on a date. You're just friends. You're living with him because he's a friend with spare room. And the fact that he's a gorgeous single man and you haven't had a boyfriend in six months hasn't even crossed your mind?"

"Maybe once or twice," Beckett reddened, staring at her shoes.

"And have you done anything about this particular situation?" Lanie was curious now. Kate didn't usually get quite so red just because she found someone attractive.

"Maybe once or twice," Beckett repeated, switching her gaze from the floor to the ceiling.

"And how far did these not-dates go?"

"We're just friends, Lanie. It's just that neither of us are seeing anyone right now, so it seemed convenient for us to, um …"

"If you say that you're 'friends with benefits,' I'm going to smack you, Kate Beckett!"

"But that's all it is, Lanie! Okay, I admit that the sex is really amazing, but I don't have time to go out and meet someone. This is just easier," Kate rationalized.

"Kate, my friend, I've got news for you. You've met a gorgeous guy. You're going out to parties with him. You're having amazing sex with him. And you're living with him. I hate to break it to you, but you're dating Richard Castle."


	15. Missing You Already

"Missing You Already"

By December21st

Fandom: Castle

Rating: G

Pairing: Jim Beckett/Johanna Beckett

Warnings: None

Summary: He misses her.

In this Castleland writing challenge, titled "Random Love", we were asked to write a love letter between two randomly selected _Castle_ characters. I won First Place in this challenge.

* * *

My Dearest Johanna,

By the time you find this letter, you'll be unpacking and I'll be getting ready to make dinner for Katie and myself. I know I promised to make balanced meals – I still say that French fries count as vegetables. I figure I can use this week to indulge her; maybe I'll get some insight into the wild teenage girl that you understand so well.

Next time, you really have to convince your law firm that you should be able to bring your family along on these corporate retreats. It's cruel and unusual punishment to make a man be without his household manager and chef and debate opponent and Friday night date for an entire week. Honestly, I don't know how I'll survive an entire week without you.

Missing you already.

Your loving husband,

Jim


	16. Character Reference

"Character Reference"

By December21st

Fandom: Castle

Rating: PG-13

Pairing: Reference to Castle/Beckett, Ryan/Esposito

Warnings: Crack!fic. Vulgar/suggestive language; reference to sex.

Summary: What if Castle and Beckett were fanfiction characters? Response to Castleland's "Squared" challenge, for the prompt **out of character**.

A/N: This was originally going to be for the **crack** prompt, but my muse assures me that she's coming up with something more appropriate for that.

* * *

Kate Beckett's sprawled across one of the easy chairs in the tastefully decorated waiting room. She's barefoot, wearing jeans with holes at the knees and the tee-shirt for a Death Metal band that nobody's ever heard of. Her eyes are closed, and her head is gyrating in time to the music that can be heard leaking from her headphones, her pony tail whipping around in exuberant circles.

A popcorn ball, of all things, hits her square in the middle of the chest from an arc that started at the entrance to the room. In her scramble to respond she ends up in a tangled heap on the floor at the foot of the chair.

"I thought you weren't working today." Rick Castle tells her from the doorway. He's dressed in sandals, shorts, and a screamingly loud Hawaiian shirt.

Beckett looks up at him while retaking the chair. "You know how it is. This girl is _almost_ done with her fic, and she just wants to rewrite two paragraphs she thinks are weak, and run it by her beta just one more time, and then I'm on stage.

"Is it any good?"

"It's not bad, actually. I'm ice skating with my mother. Not the time before the murder, earlier. A sweet little slice-of-life fic, with just a hint of underlying angst. Mom should be here any minute, so she can play her role. No guest characters either, so it should go pretty smoothly.

"Have you seen Ryan and Esposito around?"

Beckett just smirks in response.

"_Again_? People just can't get enough of those two together, can they?"

"They can't complain – it's nothing compared to the number of fics that have us getting together."

"I know, I know, have you _seen_ our schedule for tomorrow? Another chapter of that work-in-progress case file with the dead romance novelist, another first kiss in my loft, a drabble, two first chapters of fics where we just can't admit that we're attracted to each other, and another standalone smut piece by that guy that thinks that having sex is like sticking your dick in a pencil sharpener."

"I really wish he'd hurry up and get laid." Beckett starts munching on the popcorn ball. "Hey this is pretty good, where'd you get it?"

"Some of the Food Network RPF guys were having a popcorn ball fight in the cafeteria, so I grabbed a couple when I was having lunch with … some friends."

"No meals in this fic, so I'll head over there after it's published. Hey, wait … you were on another date with that lizard chick from the _V_ fanfics, weren't you?"

"She's nice. Nothing at all like her character. She likes warm climates, though, so we were going to go visit one of the Hawaii Five-O sets that they're not using. Why, what were your plans for today?"

Beckett's silent, suddenly fascinated by the _National Geographic_ on the table.

"You were going to go watch the Jane Austen slash fics again, weren't you?"

"They're so _pretty_ ..." Beckett sighs happily.

"Okay, have fun. Tell your mom hi when she gets here, and I'll see you at the next posting."


	17. Fiction Shelved as Nonfiction

"Fiction Shelved as Nonfiction"

By December21st

Fandom: Castle

Rating: PG

Pairing: None

Warnings: None

Summary: Very good storytellers can convince an audience that their stories are true. Response to Castleland's "Squared" challenge, for the prompt **favorite character**.

* * *

When he was seven years old, Richard Rodgers (not yet Castle) convinced his ten closest friends that there was pirate treasure hidden somewhere on the grounds of the century-old Future Leaders of New York Academy. For _years_ afterward, the blueprints of the building and grounds were poured over by pint-sized treasure-seekers while the groundskeepers spent inordinate amounts of time filling in holes dug in random locations instead of lounging in the furnace room, watching sporting events. It was the third school that young Richard was kicked out of.

When he was sixteen years old, Richard Rodgers (still not Castle, but getting closer) convinced the entire Junior class that Mr. Edgeware, retiring at the end of the school year, had previously murdered a sophomore who refused to study instead of just failing her because of the negative effect it would have on his record. It was the only time in his forty-three year teaching career that Mr. Edgeware awarded an "A" to each and every student in all of his classes.

The same year, finances for the Rodgers family were tight as his mother was between both husbands and speaking roles, but Richard managed to pay his tuition using entirely money he earned from tutoring English. Mr. Edgeware, a quiet little man who would never hurt a fly, devoted to the joys of English and his students, retired believing that he had finally gotten it right.

When he was twenty-eight years old, Richard Castle (actually Castle now) convinced 702 people that a man named Derrick Storm saved the lives of every man, woman, and child living in Seattle, Washington while wearing a daffodil-yellow golf shirt thanks to his charm with the ladies, his accuracy with a crossbow, and a four-hour class he took on disarming bombs. Now, just to be clear, nearly eight million people read "Driving Storm", but of those, most were aware it was a work of fiction. But 702 souls, for one reason or the other, were convinced that every word of that particular story was based in fact.

When he was thirty-seven years old, Richard Castle convinced himself, an NYPD Detective named Kate Beckett, and pretty much nobody else that the only reason he wanted to follow Detective Beckett around was for inspiration for his stories.


	18. Crackers Don't Matter

"Crackers Don't Matter"

By December21st

Fandom: Castle

Rating: PG

Pairing: Castle/Beckett

Warnings: Abuse of homonyms.

Summary: Some dates just aren't all they're cracked up to be. Response to Castleland's "Squared" challenge, for the prompt **crack**.

* * *

"You ready to go, Beckett?" Castle asks as she lets him into her apartment. "Come on, let's get cracking! This date won't go on itself, you know."

Castle glances at the television, an animated clay character exclaiming "Cracking toast, Gromit!" while waving his hands about.

"What do you know about plumbing, Castle?" Beckett asks, heading back towards her kitchen. It's unpleasantly humid in the apartment in spite of the torrential downpour outside, and all of Beckett's windows are cracked open in an attempt to let in fresh air without letting in the rain.

"I know that my plumber loves cracking jokes while he works and probably makes more in a year than I do."

"My kitchen faucet has … issues. I think the seal is cracked. I called my landlord, and he sent his nephew to fix it. The kid shows up at the crack of dawn, high as a kite, making all sorts of wisecracks about plumbers and beautiful women, and tries to sell me crack cocaine."

"And how does your landlord feel about you arresting his nephew?"

"Not that mad, actually. Said it was about time someone cracked down on the kid. Gave me a loaf of his wife's cracked wheat bread as a weird thank-you gift."

"The easiest case you've ever cracked. Seems to me fixing your sink would have been a better gift."

"You would think, but he said something about his wife cracking the whip on getting some chores done around the house. It's just as well, because when he leaned over to check under the sink …"

"Something of a plumber's crack?"

"Remind me to boil my eyeballs later. Hey, were we going to see the movie about the safecracker, or the guy who cracks up after he spends a year by himself?"

"I forget. Which one has the guy who always cracks his knuckles?"

"Well, if it's the safecracker one, we have time to crack open a bottle of wine and you can tell me all your best naughty plumber jokes," Beckett tells Castle, cracking a smile.

"Why, Detective, whatever did you have in mind?" Castle asks, his voice cracking.


	19. Avoiding Evil

"Avoiding Evil"

By December21st

Fandom: Castle

Rating: PG

Pairing: None

Warnings: None

Summary: Questions should be carefully worded to avoid unwanted answers. Or is that the other way around? Response to Castleland's "Squared" challenge, for the prompt **villain**.

* * *

"Name a villain, and tell me a fact you know about them, and you get a pair of free tickets to the movie premiere of _The Evil League of Evil_!" The perky radio station employee ambushes Beckett in front of the movie theater, shoving a microphone in front of the detective's face.

"Thomas Aames, 47, who was found guilty yesterday of first-degree murder yesterday for starving his 87-year-old mother to death," Beckett tells the microphone drily.

The woman's plastic smile falters and she rolls her eyes, much to Castle's amusement. "I was really looking for someone like The Joker or Darth Vader," she explains as though Beckett were incompetent, turning from Beckett to Castle.

"Name a fictional villain, and tell me a fact you know about them, and you get a pair of free tickets to the movie premiere of _The Evil League of Evil_!"

"Professor Anton Frobisher, the only person who survived when the Oder River flooded his hometown of Solensk. He stayed alive by luring birds to his rooftop refuge, strangling and eating them," Castle explains smugly.

"Wasn't he the villain in that one Derrick Storm book? That wasn't in the book," The geeky tech guy managing some sort of sound equipment for the radio station woman pipes up.

"Yes, but you asked for a fact that _I_ know about him."

This time the woman from the radio station just blinks, shrugs at her colleague, and ignores the pair, approaching a teenager in a Batman tee-shirt. "Tell me something about your favorite fictional villain and you get …"

Castle turns to Beckett. "It's a good thing Alexis wasn't here. She just read _Titus Andronicus_ and she doesn't want to see this movie either."


	20. Conspiracy Theory

"Conspiracy Theory"

By December21st

Fandom: Castle

Rating: G

Pairing: Castle/Beckett

Warnings: Kid!fic; attempted cute

Summary: Children learn a lot from their parents. Response to Castleland's "Squared" challenge, for the prompt **family**.

* * *

"Thank you for coming in, Mr. and Mrs. Castle. I'm afraid that Jo caused quite a commotion today," Mrs. Johnston informs the couple sitting on the other side of her desk. A dirt-covered shoebox sits on the desk between them. The subject of the conversation is squirming in a chair between her parents.

"What does the problem seem to be this time, Principal Johnston?" Kate Castle asks, her tone resigned, putting her hand on the shoulder of her trouble-prone progeny.

"This morning, Miss. Elkhart discovered that Mr. Whiskers, the class hamster, had passed away over the course of the night. Miss. Elkhart chose to use this tragic incident as a learning experience. We find the children's first experience with death is often the death of a pet. But while the other children were content with accepting Mr. Whiskers' passing, Jo started asking questions. Did Mr. Whiskers have any enemies; who was the last to see him alive - that sort of thing."

"It was _suspicious_," the youngster pipes up. "Mr. Whiskers was just fine yesterday." Castle barely suppresses a chuckle as he gives his wife a significant look.

"Miss. Elkhart had the custodian dig a grave, and the class had a funeral service for Mr. Whiskers. We thought that was the end of it, until Miss. Elkhart found this in Jo's backpack when she was leaving." Mrs. Johnston rests her hand on the dirty shoebox on her desk.

"Is that ...?" Castle asks hesitantly.

"I'm afraid that it is."

"Jo, what were you thinking?" Jo's mother inquires.

"I zoomed him. I was gonna give him to Auntie Lanie at dinner tonight, and if she finds out that there's foul play, then Uncle Javier and Uncle Kevin can question the suspects."

"Jo, nobody killed Mr. Whiskers," Principal Johnston explains patiently.

"Then why are you covering it up?" Johanna Castle demands. This time it's Mrs. Castle throwing an amused glance at her husband. "I think it's all a big P.T.A. conspiracy."


	21. Way Too Meta

"Way Too Meta"

By December21st

Fandom: Castle

Rating: G

Pairing: Castle/Beckett(ish)

Warnings: Crack!fic. Weird. Mild spoilers for Seaon 3 and "Naked Heat" (the book.)

Summary: There is no such thing as too much meta. Especially when you twist it around on itself. Response to Castleland's "Squared" challenge, for the prompt **your choice**.

* * *

"Once upon a time," the words appeared on the page under her fingers, "There was a talented writer named Richard Castle. And Rick Castle had a muse, a beautiful detective named Kate Beckett, who allowed him to follow her around from one homicide to the next, and eventually they became very good friends, and she even let him take care of her when she was sick. And he wrote stories about a talented reporter named Jameson Rook and a beautiful detective named Nikki Heat, but he was really writing about himself and his detective.

"One time, when she was very sick and he was very worried about her, Rick told Kate a secret. A secret that he had never told anyone before. Richard Castle, he told her, doesn't exist. He's a make-believe writer who writes about Jameson and Nikki, and in these stories, Jameson writes about Nikki ... or sometimes Castle writes about Jameson writing about another couple who are really himself and Nikki, but this Castle just a character in a TV show, who writes stories about himself, although sometimes Jameson and Nikki are characters in a movie on the TV show."

"And then these stories were so powerful that other people started writing stories about Rick about writing stories about Jamie writing stories about Nikki, who would sometimes write stories about Kate when she was feeling left out. And because these things have great power, the stories became true."

There was a long dark pause, and Kate struggled to drag herself out of the dream, blinking in confusion. "Castle?"

"Hey, you're awake. Here, drink some water, that fever really took a lot out of you."

"I had the strangest dream."

"I was reading to you while you were sleeping. A story about a writer."

"I feel like I'm still dreaming."

"Just try really hard to wake up, and then you'll know if you're awake."

So Kate tried really hard to wake up. And she woke up.


	22. Double, Double

"Double, Double"

By December21st

Fandom: Castle

Rating: G

Pairing: Jeremy Preswick/Emma Keane

Warnings: Spoilers for "The Fifth Bullet"

Summary: People are the same all over.

In this Castleland writing challenge, titled "Cousin Mal", we were asked to write a short fic where a Castle character is related to another character from a different fandom but played by the same actor.

* * *

Castle opens the door of the cab for Beckett and offers the detective his arm as she emerges. They're both dressed in what Martha referred to as "afternoon semiformal", with Castle in a nice suit and Beckett in a dress not showing too much leg or cleavage.

They pause to observe a couple having an animated discussion on the sidewalk. The man is familiar; the reason they're here, but the woman is not. The discussion ends abruptly when the couple realizes they're being observed.

"Fancy meeting you here," Castle tells Jeremy Preswick, shaking his hand. Beckett follows suit. "Shouldn't you be inside, getting ready? What I remember of my own two trips down the aisle, the groom may not be as busy as the bride, but he still has plenty to do."

"They've got it covered," Jeremy responds, looking a little confused. "I'm sorry, but you are …?"

Castle and Beckett exchange a look. "Can amnesia just come back like that?" Castle wonders. "I mean, I know getting married is stressful, presumably even if you're marrying the same woman for the second time, but still, I wouldn't think …"

"Do you remember anything at all?" Beckett asks Jeremy, concern written all over her face.

"Oh, I get it," Jeremy's face lights up. "Yeah, the amnesia thing. I guess we do look a little alike. I'm not Jeremy. I'm his half-brother, Riley Finn. And this is my wife, Sam."

"Really?" Castle's expression is disbelieving for a moment, while Beckett transitions instantly from concerned to apologetic, introducing herself and Castle.

Finn stares at Castle for a moment, then shakes his head. "It must be doppelganger day," he says, sounding just a little too serious. "You look a lot like a guy that my ex-girlfriend had some real trouble with a while back. Preacher name of Caleb."


	23. The Toast

"The Toast"

By December21st

Fandom: Castle

Rating: G

Pairing: None

Warnings: Spoilers for "The Old Haunt"

Summary: It's a toast to the one who made it all possible.

In this Castleland writing challenge, titled "Before and After", we were asked to write a short fic taking place immediately after the final scene of an episode.

* * *

Montgomery, Castle and Esposito arrive first. Montgomery and Castle are trading embarrassing stories featuring their children, while Esposito is told "just you wait" by the pair of fathers as the trio amble down the stairs to the Old Haunt. Some ten minutes later, Ryan and Beckett arrive, Beckett countering Ryan's theory about a "cab curse" with something called "taxi logic."

The Old Haunt isn't Castle's yet; not officially, but this evening makes it theirs. Within the hour, Jenny appears, tucking herself under Ryan's arm, in no hurry to remove him from the company of his friends. They don't mention work at all; habitually calling Montgomery "sir" is the only thing that gives them away as colleagues. Well, that and Jenny is the only one that uses anyone's first name. They talk about everything else, sports and movies, restaurants and tidbits from the local news. They laugh at each other and at themselves.

They have one thing left to do before they go their respective ways. Castle's bottle of scotch is carefully opened, gingerly poured out, and passed around the table. And then they toast the life of Donny Hayes.


	24. The Future's So Bright

"The Future's So Bright"

By December21st

Fandom: Castle

Rating: PG

Pairing: Castle/Beckett (mention of Beckett/others)

Warnings: Vague spoilers for Seasons 1-3

Summary: The future's getting closer every day.

In this Castleland writing challenge, titled "Mother Knows Best", we were asked to write a short fic from the perspective of Martha Rodgers or Johanna Beckett. I won Second Place for this challenge.

* * *

It's a funny thing, being dead.

There is so much that cannot be explained, not with words or pictures or anything that can be understood by the living. But you can still watch your loved ones, if you're willing to make the effort. You can see their past, their present, and their futures. Not just one future, as though his or her fate is immutable as stone, but all possible futures; a complex tapestry of what might be. Some futures are the merest shimmer of a thread, while others strong and bright, fully formed pictures of someday. The one thing we can never do is change anything. That is left to the living.

I watched my family so carefully after I died. Jim, who loved me so much that he fell into the bottom of a bottle of Scotch and took five years and Katie's unswerving devotion to crawl out. And Katie, my darling little girl, so grown up now.

I see the future where she devotes her entire life to her job. Criminals learn to fear her, or respect her, or both. She raises in the ranks and becomes a leader, not quite a politician, but someone of the people nonetheless. And when she goes home to an empty apartment, and feels just a little lonely every now and then, she doesn't mind. Much.

I see the future where she finds a guy (F.B.I. agent, policeman, doctor, whatever) that's good enough, more or less. Always a decent guy . Sometimes it works out; usually it doesn't. Sometimes that's his fault; more often than not it's hers. Her heart knows something's missing. The children that might be are never a solution, but it doesn't keep her from loving them completely.

I see the future where she's shot to death in a back alley by a drug dealer named Lulu Tchaikovsky.

I see the future where she falls in love with Richard Castle, and he with her. And once they finally, finally have the courage to admit it to each other after three years, or five, or ten (depending), they are _magnificent_ together. And that's the future that's getting stronger with every passing day. I see it so clearly. If only she could.


	25. A Bull's Tale

"A Bull's Tale"

By December21st

Fandom: Castle

Rating: G

Pairing: Castle/Beckett

Warnings: Kid!fic

Description: Once upon a time ...

In this Castleland writing challenge, titled "First and Last", we were asked to write a short fic and provided with the first and last sentence. I tied for Third Place in this challenge.

* * *

"The bullpen was unnaturally quiet. Everyone had frozen in place."

"Were they wearing their warm coats? Mommy always makes me wear my warm coat when it's frozing."

"Yes, sweetie, everyone was wearing their warm coats. But the reason they had frozen in place was that they heard a noise from the break room. Now what do you suppose that noise was?"

"It was a bull!"

"A bull?"

"Yeah, he came to play in his pen."

"He …" Castle grinned down at the little girl, finally bribed into going to bed with the promise of storytime. "Why yes, that's exactly what it was. Do you know this story?"

"No, daddy, you tell it!"

"But nobody wanted to play with the bull, and he was very sad. So he sat down on the floor and cried. And that made everybody else sad, because he sat down in front of the coffee maker and nobody could get to the coffee. But then Detectives Ryan and Esposito showed up, and they decided they would play with the bull."

"Uncle Kevin and Uncle Javier?"

"Yes! And Uncle Javier thought they should play a card game called 'I Doubt It', but bulls are terrible liars. And Uncle Kevin thought they should play the stock market, but the bull didn't have any money."

The small dimpled face frowned for a moment. "Then what did they play?"

"They played darts! And the bull won, because he hit the middle of the board every time. Bulls have a good eye for darts." Castle moved to tuck in his daughter, kissing her forehead. There's a movement at his side and Beckett's there too, matching his kiss with her own.

"I always suspected that about your stories," she murmured to him, her eyes twinkling.

"What?"

"They're full of bull." Smirking, she turned and walked away.


	26. Gimme Shelter

"Gimme Shelter"

By December21st

Fandom: Castle

Rating: G

Pairing: None

Warnings: None

Summary: It's Adopt-a-Shelter Pet week at the 12th Precinct! Response to the bingo challenge at LiveJournal's Castleland.

* * *

"A parakeet."

"My friend Mae had a parakeet in the third grade. It bit me. And her. And the family cat, Killer."

"I'm surprised it survived."

"They didn't call the cat 'Killer' until after that. Not exactly bright, even for a bird."

"A parrot. I could teach it to say 'dead men tell no tales' and 'shiver me timbers'."

"And yet, still a bird."

"A monkey?"

"_Seriously_, Castle?"

"What? It would be adorable, sitting on your shoulder. We could get it a little vest and teach it to play the harmonica and beg for peanuts and …" Beckett just looks at him, her hand on her chin, until he runs out of steam.

"You know, when I said I was thinking about getting a pet, I was thinking maybe some fish or something."

"Fish are boring. And hard to pet."

"I saw the faces you were making at the fish in Dr. Talbot's office. They may be boring, but the entertainment factor would still be there."

"What you need is to do some window shopping."

"I can't believe you got a cat. You are so completely not a cat person. A ferret, maybe, or a cocker spaniel. But just a plain old cat?" Castle's not unhappy, exactly, but he never would have pegged Beckett as a cat person. It bothers him.

"He's only six years old. And they were going to put Buster to sleep if nobody adopted him." Beckett sounds like the thought of a cat she's only known since yesterday being put to sleep is the worst thing she can think of.

"You couldn't at least get a kitten?"

"Kittens get adopted all the time. But people don't adopt used cats."

"He'll scratch your furniture."

"No, the shelter said he's always been an indoor cat, well trained. And he's a hunter; he already killed two spiders in the bathtub."

"Your bathtub has spiders in it?"

"Not any more."

"Are you at least going to give him a better name than Buster?"

"He's been Buster his whole life. It would confuse him if I changed his name."

"I have to admit, he looks like a Buster. That's got to be the biggest cat I've ever seen."

"Don't say that in front of him, Castle, you'll hurt his feelings."

"Okay, Beckett, you win. Shelter pets rock."

"Wha'd you get, Esposito?"

"A German Shepherd. She belonged to a guy who was using her as a guard dog to protect his drug stash. She's a good dog, though, led the cops right to where he'd hidden the drugs, didn't give them a bit of trouble."

"Isn't your apartment kinda small for a German Shepherd?" Beckett wonders.

"It's not so bad. My next door neighbor's out of work, so I'm paying him to take Gertrude out on a walk during the day." Esposito's grinning, like he has it all figured out.

"Gertrude? You named your dog Gertrude?" Castle practically accuses him.

"What's wrong with Gertrude? I figured she'd be more comfortable with a German name, otherwise I'd have given her a Spanish name."

"First, Beckett gets a cat named Buster. Then, you get a dog named Gertrude. Am I the only one here with any creativity at all? Ow!" Castle clutches at the back of his head, where Beckett's slapped him.

"Gertrude is a great name, Esposito," Beckett reassures her co-worker. "I can't wait to meet her."

"Sure, no problem. I should warn you, she has a tendency to jump up on people and lick their faces. Lanie thinks it's a little annoying, so we're starting obedience classes next week."

Beckett follows Castle into his loft, looking around. "Okay, so you followed the trend and got a pet. I'm surprised Alexis allowed it. Where is it?"

They're over here!" Castle tells her, with a childish exuberance. Beckett's eyes follow his gesture towards a huge fish tank burbling in the corner, a colorful assortment of fish darting around in it.

"I thought you said fish were boring?"

"They are."

"So why did you get fish?"

"This is why," Castle tells Beckett, leading her towards the fish tank. He hunches down and points to a striped fish. "This is Blake. You can tell because he looks like a tiger." He points to another one, this one a brilliant blue. "This is Cerulean. You can call her Sue." The next fish is spotted ...


	27. Stormy Weather

"Stormy Weathers"

By December21st

Fandom: Castle

Rating: G

Pairing: Castle/Beckett

Warnings: None

Summary: Richard Castle likes interesting weather and interesting women. Response to the prompt "storm" for a challenge at LiveJournal's Castleland.

* * *

When Richard Castle is an old man, flying to California for yet another movie premiere, he ends up sitting across the aisle from a weather forecaster. The two chat for a while about pleasant nothings; Castle eventually proposing that women are like weather.

His first wife, Meredith, was a tornado, sweeping up everything in her path, embracing them briefly, and leaving a broken trail in her wake. His mother, may she rest in peace, was a summer rainstorm, a respite from the dreary dog days of summer, never reliable, unexpected but never unwelcome.

His second wife, Gina, was a winter cold front, persistent and implacable, not unreasonable at first but emotionally wearing after a while. His daughter was the cool breeze when the sun comes up, clearing the air, a loving caress bringing light to a new day.

His third wife, Kate, was a thunderstorm, gradually approaching from miles away, subtle at first but gradually building until there is only the flash and roar of the storm and it seems like there was never a time when there wasn't a storm.

Castle's neighbor asks him what it's like to survive a storm like that. Castle smiles, glances at the woman sleeping in the seat next to him, and says that he wouldn't know.


	28. Psycho Pumpkins

"Psycho Pumpkins"

By December21st

Fandom: Castle

Rating: PG

Pairing: None

Warnings: None

Summary: The witnesses for a Halloween murder aren't talking.

In this writing challenge fpr LiveJournal's Castleland, titled "Halloween Drabbles", we were asked to write a short Halloween fic inspired by one of three photos. . I tied for Second Place (for the photo) in this challenge.

* * *

"Do you think they saw who our killer was?" Castle gestures towards the quintet of pumpkins lined up outside the victim's apartment door. Looking towards the door, they all have aghast expressions.

"If they did, they're the only ones. None of the neighbors saw anything," Beckett tells him, frustrated. Mary Crane, from all accounts, had been a decent woman.

"Not even the old woman across the hall?"

"Ryan says no."

Castle looks back at the pumpkins. "Weren't they looking the other way before? Because now they're looking at the neighbor's apartment, and they look mad."

"It's just a trick of the light, like those busts in the Haunted Mansion at Disneyland."

"Still, maybe we should talk to her again."

"If you say so, Castle." Beckett normally wouldn't give in so easily, but she's out of leads.

A young man of about thirty eventually answers their knock.

"Sorry, mother's not well," he informs them politely. "And she doesn't know who stabbed Miss. Crane."

"How did you know she was stabbed, Mr. Bateman?" Beckett demands, suspicious.

"Mother told me ... oh dear. I'm afraid she didn't really like Miss. Crane much."

After Nora Bateman's arrest, the pumpkins looked pretty pleased with themselves.


	29. The Paintball Skirmish

"The Paintball Skirmish"

By December21st

Fandom: Castle

Rating: PG

Pairing: Castle/Beckett

Warnings: Spoilers for "Knockout"

Summary: Putting the 'casual' into 'casualties.' Response to the 'Your Choice' challenge at LiveJournal's Castleland.

* * *

The paintball fight had been a bad idea from the start.

Castle had suggested a practice run before the big inter-Precinct paintball fight next month. He knew a place set up in an old warehouse in Jersey that took smaller groups, so the four of them - Beckett, Ryan, Esposito and himself - could splatter each other with bright colors and prepare for the upcoming war. Alexis had wheedled her way into coming along, and somehow - he still wasn't entirely sure how - his mother had ended up being the extra person they needed to keep the teams even.

'Even' was something of a misnomer. Random chance had put Ryan, Esposito and Alexis on the same team. The partners had apparently adopted Alexis as their little sister and then let her in on their partner-based psychic link, because the three had been completely trouncing Castle's team. The aptitude that Alexis displayed in helping the pair take out their boss and her family was a little frightening.

In contrast, Castle and Beckett showed a singular lack of coordination. Their inability to agree on even the most basic of strategy and tactics resulted in their demise at the hands of their colleagues and Castle's progeny time and time again.

Martha took the simple tack of completely ignoring both of them and making her own solo forays into enemy territory, usually while gaining no useful information at all. Deciding to make the most of a bad situation, she decided to act out every death scene. "If I can't kill them, I can at least make them sorry they killed me." So she fell to the ground with grace and gasped dying words of lost love and secret plans, of gypsy curses and hidden treasures.

Beckett eventually followed suit, proving (if nothing else) that there was a reason she didn't often work undercover. Martha commented that she had never seen a corpse giggle quite so much.

And finally Castle crumpled to the ground after a splash of lavender from his own daughter's gun caught him square in the chest. As he lay there, blinking in surprise, Beckett rushed to his side in a spectacular display of overacting. "Castle, are you all right? Rick, can you hear me? Stay with me, Rick." And then she leaned in next to his ear and whispered "I love you, Rick."

Castle had never felt so alive in his life.


	30. Murder 101

"Murder 101"

By December21st

Fandom: Castle

Rating: PG

Pairing: None

Warnings: None

Summary: Latin is called a dead language. The victim's dead too. Response to the challenge **"Speaking in Tongues"** at LiveJournal's Castleland, where the challenge was to write a fic including at least ten words in a language other than English.

* * *

"What can you tell us about Professor Turner?" Beckett asked the besectacled man sitting across the desk from her in his tiny cluttered office.

"He was inept. _Ut apes geometriam._(1) A simpleton overwhelmed by his responsibilities. He had the soul of a bureaucrat. He was going to cut the funding to our Ancient Literature program in half, and eliminate the Latin Club's trip to Rome entirely!" Professor Wembly sputtered. "Do you know what that's like?"

"_Nec quicquam acrius quam pecuniae damnum stimulat._"(2) Castle responded from beside Beckett, earning a curious look.

"You know your Latin idioms, Mr. Castle!" Wembley exclaimed happily.

"I had an interesting education."

"And when was the last time you saw Professor Turner?" Beckett asked, returning to her questions.

"Why, just last night! I went in to his office to plead with him to reconsider about the trip to Rome. He just would not listen to reason! He made my spleen ache." Wembley actually trembled as he recalled the experience.

"Your ... spleen?" Beckett's not sure she wants to know.

"Ancient Romans believed that anger lived in the spleen. It's where the phrase 'vent your spleen', meaning 'express your anger' comes from." Castle cheerfully lectured.

"And Professor Turner was still alive when you left him?" Beckett wondered.

"Of course," Webmbley assured Beckett eagerly.

"And when I run a DNA test on the blob of spit on Turner's face, it won't match your DNA?" Beckett demanded.

"... DNA test?" Wembley seemed suddenly uncertain.

Castle considered Wembley carefully. "_Habet et musca splenem._" (3)

* * *

**Translations**:

1 - Like bees at geometry.

2 - Nothing stings more deeply than the loss of money.

3 - Even a fly has a spleen.

Idioms and their translations from _Idiom's Delight_ by Sue Brock.


	31. Research

"Research"

By December21st

Fandom: Castle

Rating: PG

Pairing: None

Warnings: Spoilers for "Countdown".

Summary: Castle prepares for another bad day. Response to the challenge "**Post-Ep**" at LiveJournal's Castleland, where the challenge was to write a post-ep to an assigned episode.

* * *

The day after a dirty bomb doesn't go off in New York City, Castle goes to a charity book signing. He doesn't want to go, he _wants_ to stay in bed wrapped in seven layers of blankets, or possibly buy a plane ticket to the nearest desert. But the homeless, although not dying of radiation poisoning, still need a new shelter, so he goes.

He's scheduled to be seated next to Angel Bailey, the writer of a popular children's series about fairies living in a rooftop garden, and J.T. Draxx, the author of the _funniest_ technical manuals Castle's ever read. Castle takes his place between a bald tattooed man weighing at least three hundred pounds and an elderly woman actually wearing a knitted shawl.

"Got any breath mints?" The behemoth asks by way of introduction.

Castle starts emptying his pockets in reply. The first thing he pulls out are half a dozen chemical hand warmers. He notices the older woman looking at them curiously - it's not like it's _that_ cold out.

"I had a bad day yesterday," Castle doesn't explain. "Doing research."

"I just like to have the breath minty fresh for the kiddies," the giant grins, grabbing the tin of Altoids.

"You'll have to forgive Angel," the woman tells Castle. "He's not good with adults, but the kids love him. I'm Janet Draxx."

"Richard Castle," Castle replies with a smile. "Janet, I don't suppose you've written any books on disarming bombs? Or have an expert consultant I could borrow? I've decided I need some lessons. For research."

As she texts Castle his information, Janet thinks she really should read Castle's next book. It sounds exciting, based on all his research.


	32. Hide and Seek

"Hide and Seek"

By December21st

Fandom: Castle

Rating: PG

Pairing: None

Warnings: None

Summary: Castle and Beckett play hide and seek in the fog with a suspect. Response to the "Mini Big Bang" challenge at LiveJournal's Castleland.

* * *

The sun's starting to go down on the dense fog enveloping the city, and the dark windows of empty buildings stare down onto Beckett and Castle, attempting to catch up with Jossef 'Wally' Wallenski, a suspect who had run the moment he saw them.

Beckett draws her gun and swivels to point it down the alley where Wally disappeared. She can see maybe twenty feet before the alley is shrouded in fog. "NYPD! Show yourself!" Beckett commands. Wally's childish giggle is the only response she gets.

"You didn't actually think that would work, did you?" Castle asks Beckett pragmatically. She shrugs. He starts making gestures vaguely resembling police hand symbols but with a creative Castle twist. He stops when he sees the look on her face.

"This guy's in the wind. We should go back to the precinct," Castle suggests.

"You're right about that," Beckett agrees unexpectedly.

They start leaving the alley, Castle pulling out his iPhone. "So I have a theory about this case. No, no, listen to me about this, Beckett. I found some information online." Two sets of footsteps echo loudly through the fog in the alley. "I think we should seriously consider the possibility that our victim was involved in smuggling paintings into the U.S. from Canada. There are certain Canadian artists that are very popular here in the States. D.D. Right, for example."

"Freeze," Beckett's voice comes from some ways behind him. Castle retraces his steps to find Beckett handcuffing an indignant Wally. She's in stocking feet, her shoes on top of a nearby recycling bin.

"But you were both leaving. I heard you," Wally whines as Beckett reads him his rights.

Castle holds up his iPhone, clicking on an icon labeled 'Footsteps.' The phone starts playing the noise of high heels clicking along on asphalt. Castle grins. "There's an app for that."


	33. Before and After

"Before and After"

By December21st

Fandom: Castle

Rating: G

Pairing: Castle/Beckett

Warnings: General Season 5 spoilers

Summary: Richard Castle is in love. Also, hungry. Response to the "Mini Big Bang" challenge at LiveJournal's Castleland.

* * *

Castle feels like an idiot. It's for the best of all possible reasons, though, so he doesn't really mind. A small, practical voice in the corner of his mind (one that sounds remarkably like his mother) tells him that the world hasn't actually changed _that_ much since Beckett showed up at his door and threw herself at him. (It really happened; he checked. Twice.) But Castle gags that voice (he would never do the same to his mother, but a son can dream) and quite happily believes that the world is much more colorful since that amazing, eventful night. Beckett's hair used to be brown, he's quite sure of it, but now it's the color of dark honey preserved in a cool dark cellar. He never noticed that her favorite red lipstick is exactly the color of strawberries just ripe enough to be dipped in chocolate. The blouse she wears on court days, which he previously described as cream-colored, perfectly matches the decadent cheesecake they have at _La Maison_. (Castle is willing to admit that, in addition to being in love, he's also hungry. One does not rule out the other.) And he realizes that the scarf he previously thought of as being drab is actually the color of fine-quality French mustard. So when she appears at his door (again) (yes, he's just that lucky) wearing the scarf with the blouse, and the lipstick she instructs him not to smudge and the hair she instructs him not to muss (he defies her immediately on both counts), he decides that the first thing he'd better do is take her out to dinner. After all, he's not an idiot.


	34. Leaving on a Jet Plane

"Leaving on a Jet Plane"

By December21st

Fandom: Castle

Rating: G

Pairing: Castle / Beckett

Warnings: Fluff. Written in a hurry. Probably not very good.

Summary: I'm leavin' on a jet plane; I don't know when I'll be back again. Response to the "Castle Maifesto" challenge at LiveJournal's Castleland, with a theme of Castle/Beckett. With apologies to Peter, Paul and Mary; John Denver; and Michelle Featherstone.

* * *

Beckett feels his lips on hers, softly drawing her out of a restful sleep. She smiles before she even opens her eyes, feeling his hand cupping her cheek as he kisses her. The kiss is gentle and chaste, and she's surprised that it even woke her up at all. The first thing she sees are Rick's eyes, looking at her as though he's memorizing her every feature.

"Morning," Rick murmurs, as though on some level he's still trying not to wake her.

"Morning," Kate replies, equally quiet, and leans into the wake-up kiss. It lasts a few minutes until Castle reluctantly pulls away, taking a step towards the door.

"The taxi should be here in a few minutes," he informs her, and she gradually realizes that he's not only awake before her, but that he's already showered and dressed. He even put on his coat before he came in to wake her up to say goodbye. Her glance flickers briefly at the luggage sitting just outside the bedroom door. For one brief moment, she'd forgotten that he's leaving.

"What time is it?" Beckett asks, gathering her thoughts.

"Dawn," Castle answers, a typical poetic answer to a practical question.

Kate doesn't ask him if he has to go; she's not some sniveling child who can't face practical realities. That doesn't mean she wants to face them, however. She iwants/i to pull Rick back into bed and let sleep overtake them both, cradled in softness and warmth. Instead she pulls on the robe draped over the footboard as she gets to her feet.

"I miss you," Rick tells her, and there's a catch in his voice. The look on his face is indescribable.

Kate steps over to where he's standing, kisses him again longingly for just a moment, and smiles her most dazzling smile at him, blinking back the tears that glisten at the corners of her eyes. "I'll be waiting right here for you to come home," she tells him. She wraps her arms around him in a full-bodied hug, resting her head on his shoulder. She doesn't want to ever let him go.

"I wish I didn't have to go," Rick tells her, talking into her hair. She wishes the same thing, but she's not going to say that. She's not going to make this any harder on him than it already is.

"Castle." Beckett pulls back so she's looking at him, so she can see his face. "I want you to know that I've never felt this way before. There's never been anyone, ever, who's made me feel the way you make me feel. "

"I know," he assures her, cupping her chin in his hand and kissing her again. She wraps her arms around him like she'll never be able to hold him again.

"And, well, I thought about what you said last night. And you're right, the women before me, they're not part of your life any more. You've proven that. So, when you come back, if you want to give me a ring, I'll wear it.

Rick beams at her, kissing her thoroughly. They back up until the backs of her knees hit the edge of the bed. She sits on the edge of the bed, slightly breathless. And he backs away from her, his eyes telling her how much he wishes he wasn't.

"Until I get back, dream about us together. Dream about our life together, and how happy we're going to be." And then Castle slips out the bedroom door, closing it behind him. And Kate Beckett returns to bed and dreams.


	35. The Unconventional Convention

"The Unconventional Convention"

Fandom: Castle (Primary) / 9 other fandoms (Secondary & Passing Reference)

Rating: G

Pairing: None

Warnings: None

Summary: Castle and Beckett attend a police consultants convention. Response to the "Crossover" challenge at Castleland, where the challenge was to write a crossover with another fandom. But instead of one other fandom, I chose nine.

* * *

"I've heard of police conventions before, Castle, but a police consultants convention? What could you possibly have to discuss?" Beckett wonders, standing next to Castle as she surveys the hotel ballroom from its doorway.

"Getting paid, for one thing," a man standing behind her gumbles. He's wearing a rumpled overcoat and carrying a hockey stick. "I sure hope the drive out here from Chicago is worth it."

Castle and Beckett move further into the ballroom and the man spies someone he knows, striding off in a different direction.

Castle starts skimming the program. "Here's one. 'How to Annoy the Cops Without Getting Arrested' That sounds good. Oh, and 'Staying Out of the Line of Fire,' I could use a few pointers on that."

"Is there one on staying in the car when you're told?" Beckett asks drily. She's people watching; consultants certainly are a quirky group. A man in a tweed jacket clutching a briefcase like a life preserver is standing at the edge of the room, apparently talking to someone who's not there. Not far from him, a younger man is arguning with his older companion. Something about the older man's demeanor suggests that he's probably on recreational drugs of some sort. He seems more interested in the refreshment table than the lecture he's receiving from the younger man.

"Mr. Castle?" a woman pushing a stroller with a small child approaches them.

"Dr. Brennan!" Castle greets her enthusiastically. "How are you? I haven't seen you since the Mystery Writers of America conference two years ago."

"I'm doing quite well, thank you." Dr. Brennan responds.

"Dr. Temperance Brennan, I'd like to introduce you to Detective Kate Beckett of the NYPD. Detective Beckett, this is Dr. Brennan. She does forensic consulting in Washington for the F.B.I."

"Pleased to meet you," Beckett says, shaking the other woman's hand. "What panels do you plan to attend this weekend?"

"I am quite eager to attend a talk that Professor Epps from the _California Institute of Science_ is giving about dumbing down science for the average law enforcement officer. I believe that he also consults for the F.B.I., giving us a common point of reference. It often surprises me how little training some law enforcement officers have in graduate-level forensic pathology." Dr. Brennan explains.

"Dr. Brennan, I see that your social skills are improving," Castle tells her.

"Thank you. My partner has been explaining some nuances of social interaction that sometimes elude me. I am quite brilliant, though, so I expect I shall master his lessons in no time."

"Did you hear?" a man with curly blond hair approaches their group. "Two police consultants, both with the same name, were both told they're getting the 'Consultant of the Year' award. One of them's from here in New York, but the other one flew all the way here from London. It promises to be quite exciting."

The four adults introduce each other, and make small talk for a while.

"I think the Saturday night lecture should be the most interesting the whole weekend," Castle comments, having returned to the program. The blond man has crouched down and is doing slight-of-hand tricks to the delight of Dr. Brennan's daughter. "Should apply to a bunch of us. They brought in a couple of private detectives from the 80's to give the talk, to tell us what they did wrong and how we can avoid making the same mistakes. It has to do with doing police consulting as a second job."

"What's it called?" Beckett wonders idly.

"The Moonlighting Curse."


	36. Spooky Little Girl Like You

"Spooky Little Girl Like You"

By December21st

Fandom: Castle

Rating: PG

Pairing: None

Warnings: None

Summary: Castle brushes up on his ghosthunting skills. Response to the prompt "scary" at LiveJournal's Castleland.

* * *

When had it gotten dark? Castle glanced around, realizing that the only source of light in the loft was his laptop. He'd gotten completely wrapped up in writing a particularly thrilling action sequence, and sometime between Nikki and Rook getting shot at over coffee and ending up in the Hudson River, the sun had apparently set.

And Beckett wasn't back yet. She'd said something about getting a Halloween costume for Wednesday's party, but that was hours ago. Probably. Or at least, when it was still daylight.

Castle caught a glimpse of something moving soundlessly out in the living room. A glimpse of incandescent light suggested something ethereal, otherworldly, or otherwise preternatural. In any case, there was definite glowage.

He moved out of his office, momentarily forgetting that he was the owner of several perfectly good light switches. The darkness continued unabated.

Not seeing anything at first, he almost grabbed a small table lamp for protection before deciding that a nearby Edgar award was heavier and didn't require unplugging.

Then he saw the ghost descending the stairs. She was bathed in a faint phosphorescent light. She wore the tatters of a greenish-white dress, her arms and legs loosely wrapped in gauze. Her white hair was long and stringy, nearly covering her face. Castle wondered for a moment if she'd drowned. What he could see of her face was pale and luminescent. She was carrying a white book.

When she reached the bottom of the stairs, she reached out for him, the ghost of a smile haunting cracked dark green lips. Castle stood unmoving, gaping at the apparition.

"Do you like it?" the spirit asked, showing him the book. It had his name on the cover, like a tombstone.

"What are you? He asked wondrously.

Beckett smiled victoriously. "A ghostwriter!"


	37. Listen to Your Mother

"Listen to Your Mother"

By December21st

Fandom: Castle

Rating: PG

Pairing: None

Warnings: None

Summary: What do you have to say for yourself? Response to a challenge to write a story in second person at LiveJournal's Castleland.

Author's Note: Just sorting through the last of my unposted Castleand fics.

* * *

What do you have to say for yourself? Did you think that you could get away with murder? Did you think that nobody would remember that you threatened to kill your English teacher last week when you flunked that test? Yes, that's it, you just think that everyone pays just as little attention in English as you do. You should have listened to your mother, but no.

Did you think that police detective was stupid, just because she's pretty? Did you think she wouldn't notice that you couldn't remember what happened during the movie that was your so-called alibi? Even that consultant that she had with her could tell when you were making parts of the movie up, and he's not even a cop! Next time, if you're going to say you went to 'Heat Wave' when you're really off killing someone, make sure that you've actually seen 'Heat Wave.' The cops probably haven't even seen it, so they wouldn't know the difference. So then you'd be fine. But no, you didn't listen to your mother, did you?


	38. Overcooked

"Overcooked"

By December21st

Fandom: Castle

Rating: G

Pairing: Castle/Beckett

Warnings: None

Summary: A Thanksgiving conversation. Response to the Thanksgiving challenge at LiveJournal's Castleland.

Author's Note: Just sorting through the last of my unposted Castleand fics. Written for Thanksgiving 2012. As Castleland is closing, this will be the last story in this anthology. Thanks for reading.

* * *

"Pass the sweet potatoes, please. I really like them, Mr. Beckett"

"I'm glad, Alexis. And please, call me Jim."

"That's your third helping, Alexis."

"Pot, meet kettle."

"You don't like my stuffing?"

"Only when it's not extra crispy, Dad."

"Yes, Richard, weren't you in the kitchen when the alarm went off? Whatever were you and Detective Beckett doing that had you so distracted that you overcooked the turkey by a good fifteen minutes?"

"Mother!"

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about, Martha. We weren't doing anything but cooking."

"Yes, I'm certain you were."

"Mother, please!"

"Now, Martha, let's not embarrass them too much."

"Thank you, Dad."

"We have plenty of time for that during dessert."


End file.
